


Worth

by eClair23



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27087829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eClair23/pseuds/eClair23
Summary: Natasha's had a rough mission, and Clint has prepared a birthday celebration for when she returns.
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Worth

Natasha made her way into their apartment, leaning heavily on the door as she locked it behind her. She felt some of the tension drain from her body at the sound of soft acoustic music coming from the living room. Her favorite way to unwind. 

“Hey,” she offered. 

He gave her a soft “hey” in response. As she rounded the corner to their living room, her mouth dropped open, her lips forming a pink “o.”

There was a vase of stunning red roses set on the coffee table next to a wrapped package. As she settled in a bit more, she smelled the sweet, starchy aroma of pierogies from the oven. She raised a quizzical eyebrow. 

“What’s all this?”

“Happy birthday.”

“What?”

“I did some digging, and I finally tracked down a file with your birthday in it. It’s today. So happy birthday, Nat.”

She had never felt so touched and surprised in her life. “You did all this… for me?”

He nodded. A grin broke out across her face as she pulled him down for a kiss. “Thank you.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I also ran you a bath, if you’d like it. Figured you could use some alone time.”

Nat nodded. “Thanks.”

She carefully undid the straps of her heels and kicked the shoes off with a sigh of relief as her feet hit the plush carpet of home. She disappeared into the bedroom, shoes in tow, and reemerged soon afterwards in leggings and her favorite of Clint’s old sweatshirts. She took a moment for herself, listening to Clint singing along to the soft music. He had a beautiful voice, and he used it so rarely that she treasured these quiet moments when he thought she wasn’t listening.

After a moment, she cleared her throat. He bounded over to her, holding a vanilla cupcake with a lot of frosting on the top, and a tacky plastic number one. “Happy first official birthday. Although, if you want to get technical, you’re thirty now.”

“Thirty, wow. I’m practically middle aged.” She laughed for a moment, taking the cupcake, but fell silent shortly. 

Her shoulders were tense, and it wasn’t from the cold of her damp hair resting against the shoulders of the sweatshirt and leaving wet spots. They were tense the way they always were when she was angry or upset. The sleeves of his sweatshirt fell past her hands, and she seemed to shrink into herself. The casual observer might not notice, but he did. Something was wrong, and desperately as he wanted to know what was bothering her, he knew he’d have to wait for her to tell him. No sense in making things worse, right?

She settled gingerly on the end of the couch farthest from him, her knees drawn to her chest as she sat in silence. She often got this way after having to deal with sleazy targets. She didn’t want to talk or be touched, she just wanted to decompress. Using her appearance to sway marks drained her and left her feeling dirty and guilty, and often pretty worthless. 

_When she’d first come to SHIELD, it had quickly become apparent to Clint that Natasha was accustomed to using her body to get information. He’d called her on it after the first mission where he had actually witnessed her in action. He had taken her by the shoulders and sat her down on a bench in the middle of SHIELD headquarters._

_“What was that, Natasha?!” His voice was quiet, but he sounded angry, a tone she hadn’t heard in his voice before. It scared her._

_She blinked. “What was what?”_

_“The mission. You didn’t even try to get the information from that guy, you just…”_

_“I don’t understand the problem.”_

_“We don’t work like that. You don’t have to give someone your body to get information with us. We find another way to get the information, or we don’t get it. It’s not worth it.”_

_She had stared at him, wide-eyed, and then let out a dark chuckle. “This is a joke. I get it, you’re playing a joke on me. It’s very funny.”_

_“Nat, this isn’t a joke. You’re worth more than what they made you, you just need to see it.”_

_“You’re not… you’re not kidding?”_

_He shook his head firmly, taking her hands. “You never have to seduce a mark again. You’re done with that.”_

_She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. “Okay.”_

Flirting was fine. It was annoying, but whatever. However, anything physical, she was sick and tired of; tired of allowing herself to become someone else’s plaything, just to get some intel. When Clint had brought her in, she had been weary of feeling ashamed and used, and when she had seen the chance for freedom, she’d taken it.

It eased her conscience and gave her a sense of pride and worth, not having to use her body to gain information. She was grateful beyond belief, even if she didn’t show it. Yes, the marks could get a bit handsy, but it was nothing compared to the abuse of her past missions.

Usually, she was able to shake off the mission and recover fairly quickly, but tonight was different.

“Can you read to me?” she asked. She needed a distraction.

He snagged their current read off of the coffee table: Murder on the Orient Express. “Of course.”

He read aloud, keeping an eye on Nat whenever he paused.

By halfway through their first chapter, she’d sat down cross-legged in the middle of the couch, her shoulders drooping.

Toward the end of the chapter, she shifted to lay with her head in his lap. He tentatively toyed with a few strands of her drying hair, silently asking permission as he finished reading and they sat in silence. She closed her eyes, finally relaxing. 

“I got the intel,” she broke the silence.

“You okay?” He couldn’t care less about the intel.

She sighed. “I guess so.”

“Things didn’t go the way you wanted?”

Nat pursed her lips. “The mark got a little… aggressive.”

“He hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I thought I was getting close to getting the intel. It seemed routine enough, but he got impatient and… grabbed me. Kind of hard.”

Clint’s jaw set. 

“I mean, I’m used to targets getting handsy, don’t get me wrong, but this… this was scary.”

He smoothed a hand over her forehead and down over her hair.

“It’s just… I’m always in control with these missions, you know? I play the game on my terms, not theirs. But I wasn’t in control this time. He could have done anything he wanted to me, and I wouldn’t have been able to fight back, or it would compromise the mission. I had a bad feeling about him going in, based on his record, but I guess I thought I could handle it better.”

“Mm.”

She interlaced their hands over her stomach. “I’m just glad it’s over.”

He gave her hand a squeeze. “Me, too. I’m glad you’re home. I missed you.”

She placed a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. “Thank you for the birthday celebration. I love you.” 

“Love you, too. Oh! You never opened your present!” He reached over her and grabbed it off of the coffee table.

She unwrapped the gift neatly, making an effort not to tear the wrapping paper. When she saw what was underneath, she had to fight to blink back tears. He’d bought her a brand new pair of ballet slippers.

“Do you… do you like them? I thought you might appreciate having a pair of your own.”

“I haven’t danced in years.”

“Now’s as good a time as any to pick it back up. If you want to, that is. It might be nice to make some good memories dancing.”

“They’re beautiful.” She ran a finger along the slipper. “Thank you.”


End file.
